Wind is blowing hearts are waiting
for a train to come and take them to their junction.
Why does it burn to stand in the cold?
why does it hurt to be okay ?
why do the eyes cry to being happy?
It is sadder than death,its crazier than standing on sun,
it is happier than the jingling bells of Christmas.
When it comes no one knows but it does arrive in all our hearts
it lulls the lullaby to sleep
and hushes the raging mind,
Oh ! the one above who sends rain for the greatness of it...
It kills and destroys and yet beats in the hearts and then beats to the last
Hey love tell me, where you from?
